Matt and Mello's Effing Movie
by Shirai Phoenix
Summary: Collab story with ultimma.gothicca! Based off the movie "Zack and Miri make a Porno", but with Death Note characters. AU, OOC, YAOI (Man-on-Man action/sex). It will be dirty, it will be sexy, it will be funny, it will be romantic (about as romantic as a porno could get), and you're never gonna look at these characters the same way again.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: if you're looking for Shirai Phoenix, well you're in for a GRAVE disappointment. Just kidding, she'll be back next chapter.**

**This is ultimma. gothicca of the Kuroshitsuji fandom, now attempting to sail the ship of the most loved DN couple: Matt x Mello.**

**It started while I'm high with Cheetos, chatting with this great author from Vampire Knight fandom. We decided, in all divine epiphany:**

**Dude, let's collaborate. Zack and Miri make a porno, now to be portrayed by DN characters.**

**This fic will be dirty, bold, dramatic, and crack. And some romance, you know, for underage readers.**

**I, ultimma, will be cussing it out the great Mello's pov, while Shirai will impress you with a sexier, hotter Matt that you will never forget.**

**Warning: Sexy, broke teenagers making porno. Nope, no one's underage, I think. AU and OOC.**

**Disclaimer: None of us owns this masterpiece (Death Note). Not anything, not even the plot (We took inspiration from Zack and Miri Make a Porno). Aren't we broke?**

**We love you!**

* * *

Mello's POV:

"Mello, Mello...

Mello, so mellow...

Pretty and yellow...

Rise and shine! Say—"

"Hello." The cold Beretta faced the abomination that woke me up from my sleep. Not bothering to look afraid, a pair of exposed green emeralds rolled in an unsympathetic gesture before pulling the blankets covering my naked sexiness (protest, I dare you), and I clung obstinately to my comfort. I shoot guns better, but Matt proved to be stronger as he succeeded in taking it off me.

"Five fucking minutes bitch," I complained. "And your poetry sucks." I lifted myself from the creaking bed, eggshell colored sheets sliding from me as I walk like a zombie to my mirror.

Blond, layered hair messed up like some bitch hated me.

Puffy, sky blue eyes barely open to see the light of the day.

Toned but lean body, slightly sweaty from my sleep.

I glance back at Matt, who was still in his boxers, looking like a hot model from Playgirl magazine* (at least put some pants on).

Why does he look better than me during mornings?

"Take a shower, you reek of manliness~" he stuck out a pink tongue and whipped out a PSP from who knows where, fingers swiftly dialing combinations from the game. "By the way, your admirers dropped some love letters today."

"Electricity, rent, water, and internet bills." Damn, I knew I shouldn't have bought that Godiva chocolates and French Truffles last week. "Fill me out, please."

"Can't." My best friend rolled to my bed, dropping his game to the floor. Uh oh, this looks bad. "I was going to ask you to fill me out, now."

My eyes narrowed cynically. "You just got your pay check last week."

"Funny story there," he messed up his flaring locks and avoided my glare expertly. "The new Final Fantasy game was released, and you know I just have to—wait a sec! You had your pay last week, too!"

"Godiva took it, so haha." it was my turn to avoid him. I waltzed to our shared comfort room and started the shower. Matt followed me, opened the door (our lock was broken and never fixed) and started a sermon about budgeting.

"You see, Mells, it's always: needs over wants. You always have to put the necessities first above all—"

"Like you're the one to talk, Mattie." I continued my shower nonchalantly as I cut off his words. "You put your games and cigarettes first above all things. Try quitting, sweet shit, and you'll see how much we'll save."

"Do that, I dare you, Mihael." I stop midway from scrubbing my armpits as his voice lowered dangerously. Damn, I know that tone. "I will hunt down your chocolate stash; yes, that involves Van Houten* and Ferrero Rocher*, and even Hershey's. I'll burn it and dance around the coal. You wouldn't want to see me dance."

"Try selling or pawning that game console of yours if you are so worried about the fucking bills."

"Sure thing. But sell your Beretta first."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I won't win this shit, will I?"

Victory grin. "Nope."

I laughed at how childish he looked, perfect teeth exposed from the smile and wide eyes twinkling like a puppy. So fucking cute. "We'll find our way around this. Positive thinking."

Deep within me, I'm worried if we'll still have a roof over our heads at the end of the month. But Matt shouldn't know that.

* * *

Another boring day at a boring job. I sighed in sheer 'boredom', annoyed as hell.

The fucking 'Callie's convenient store' hat was itchy, the stiff polo uniform in a horrible shade of YELLOW was, err stiff, and the fucking lose pants aren't doing justice to my figure. I look around the store, from the neatly arranged potato chips (which will be messed up later by stupid window shoppers), to the stacks of inexpensive beer frozen beyond Kelvin zero.

In the middle of an unknown town, I dreamed of running the Mafia and exploding buildings. Maybe be a rockstar, or a model. Hell, if I'm in New York, I'd probably be a famous writer or a gang leader.

"So we need condoms, energy drinks, and-"

Before I can say welcome to the customers, I froze in shock in utter surprise. Who would've thought, in the middle of nowhere, I'd meet...

Wispy blonde hair a lighter shade than mine...

Cold eyes in icy blue...

The well-known pair of tight booty shorts...

Alois Trancy. Famous author of _Bedroom Courtesy_ and _Whip Your Lash_. The best at writing Gay Porn!*

What? You thought I'm straight? I wouldn't bother painting these nails black if I was.

"Oh, hell, aren't you AL?" I managed to hide the fanboy squeal from my voice. Blue eyes smirked, and leaving his blue-haired friend in fur (currently deciding which brand of condoms to buy), he leaned at the counter and spoke.

"Hell yeah, I am. What's up, hottie?"

"I am a fan!" My declaration made his friend's eyes roll, but I didn't care. Damn, where's the pen? I need his autograph!

"No shit! That's so sweet." The writer looked happy enough, although I did get a little uncomfortable at how he looked at me like I'm dinner. "So happy I have a fan as hawt as you."

"Alois, he works at a convenience store. Get some taste, man."

"Shut up, Ciel," the blonde reprimanded the surly male, wagging a finger at him. "Can't you see the potential? I'd bet he'd be great as a porn star."

I cringed, my thoughts blocking out the blabbering in the background. I never thought about that kind of idea before. I mean, sure, I am sexy. But shit, a porn star? Yeah, sure, I can only imagine myself in leather, whipping random chicks and forcing them to call me master. No, I'm not sadistic. I think...

I do think I'd look good in leather.

"If you ever want to get away from this lonesome place~ text me!" A series of numbers written in a lip liner on a tissue was shoved inside my pocket as I hand him the change.

"We'll give you a shout out on Candy and Whip, and even a discount at all those great sex toys." Skipping to the glass door, Alois blew me a kiss and winked. "Just make that porno~"

The duo sauntered away, with 'Ciel' saying, "that's a stupid joke" to my idol. I pulled the tissue out and felt a little happy. Alois kindly placed his autograph on it. Such a sweetheart.

A porn star? I mean, should I? I remembered Matt saying that some people paid a lot for a porn flick, as long as it's well done. When was the due of the bills again? Two weeks from now? And our pay will be arriving 3 weeks from this day. Ugh, why the hell am I considering Trancy's suggestion? Wasn't it a crazy joke from an effing porn writer?

Glance at the clock. 1pm. 8 more hours to go on my shift. Ugh, making money is fucking hard. Wish I could go illegal and start robbing banks or something. Hell, _what_ bank? We're in the middle of nowhere!

No matter what, I ain't selling my Beretta. Even if my finances are as tight as an asshole.

* * *

30 minutes before my off time. My coworker, Matsuda, was already ready to take over, judging from how the idiot messed up the newly arranged cigarette shelf. Fuckity hell, he would've been cute if he wasn't so stupid. The black-haired epitome of awkwardness walked around the fucking store, "trying" to clean, and make himself useful, only to end up as another work for me. I'm only 19, but I swear, I have more common sense than this 23-year-old idiot.

To keep myself from being stressed, I focused my gaze on a customer, who was sitting here for about 2 hours. A handsome one with light brown hair and cinnamon eyes. Asian, I supposed. He wore a nicely pressed polo shirt in deep maroon, the fabric looked soft and comfortable. With neat, black slacks and dress shoes to boot, and you have a scholar student in front of you. Or a model posing as a scholar.

The only thing he bought was a bottle of distilled water, which he was nursing like a baby. Kinda like in Starbucks, where people order a cup of coffee and sit for hours with a laptop on their table. You get the picture.

St. Marian's town (the middle of nowhere), in Boston*, despite the country style picturesque you may see when passing by, is a place mostly inhabited by foreigners, due to cheap women and food, and booze. You know, unlike the other expensive places here in America where you can barely afford a burger. However, it is also notoriously known for low class syndicates targeting newly arrived people and stealing their luggage and stuff. Whether or not he is a victim is something I will discover later.

_Smash!_

As soon as I finish cleaning up the idiot's mess.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Mello. I work here and, I'll be frank, you look like you're in trouble."

The Asian tried to look at me straight in the eye, however I can see his confidence falter, what with the way he bit his lips nervously. "Light Yagami. I was supposed to study here. But my stuff was, how should I say this...taken by some goons," Damn. For a foreigner, he got good accent.

I sat beside him and nibbled on a Hershey's, tossing another bar at his direction. "This is how it is. And you're not even in the big city yet."

He bit harder on his lower lip in anxiety, and I can tell he's very, very upset. Poor kid.

"Passport, cellphone, ID's, clothes, lost 'em all, right?"

"Left with a change in my pocket," he mumbled. Clearly, I hit home run.

I remembered when I was like this. Alone and at my wit's end. It was the same November chill, same melancholy...

Then, I met an angel.

"Tell you what." I patted his shoulder to dismiss him from his own thoughts. "You can stay in my apartment. I mean, it's shitty and I live with a friend, but at least there's the couch where you can sleep."

I wanted to laugh at his uncertainty. Indeed, he suddenly became wary of strangers after being robbed off by the street rats. His eyes flickered with an internal struggle, and hands wrung nervously against each other. Cute. Not as cute as Matt, though.

Do I really look like the big, bad man?

"I work here, right? You can ask our manager whether or not you can trust me. I'm just doing you a favor since I can relate to you."

He exhaled deeply, as if exhausted. Leaning at the table, he looked at me straight in the eye for the first time, as if assessing my character. With a critical nod, he replied, "Well, could it get any worse? Thank you, and I'll accept your offer. Sorry for being an inconvenience."

"No problem!" I led him outside the Callie's, where my old car waited patiently for me. Opening his door and taking my place on the driver seat, I remembered: "Not gonna lie, we're pretty broke right now so, you know, we can't offer anything fancy. We'll get by, though. So it's okay."

"_Honto_? I mean, are you sure? I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"Nah. It's fine. I have a plan." I took the tissue note and placed it in my wallet. Why am I such a soft motherfucker?

Now, how to make a porno again?

* * *

***Playgirl magazine introduces - shout out to a favorite fic in DN fandom.**

***Ferrero Rocher etc. - not sure if I spelled the brands right.**

***Alois Trancy and Ciel Phantomhive - cameo appearance since we will use most of the DN characters at the main plot. Refer to my fic "Fingers Intertwined" for the story behind Ciel and Alois.**

***Boston - St. Marian is a made up the town. Used Boston, coz I heard it's less populated than NY**

**Light - I portrayed him as childlike and very much similar to when he forgot about being Kira.**

**Mello - I strongly believe he's nice. Actually, that's what killed him in the first place.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yello-Mello, everyone! Shirai Phoenix here~! As my dear darling U.G. said in her previous chapter, I will be writing from our dear Matt's POV, mostly because I can relate to that geeky-ass videogamer! I'm sorry for the long wait for chapter two, but my inspiration has been a little BLEAGH! for the past couple months, or so. But now that I'm over that BLEAGH! period and into my EUREKA! one, I'll try to update faster, in both this story and "I Need a Doctor".**

**So, now, without further ado...enjoy chapter _deu__x _of "Matt and Mello's Effing Movie"!**

**Disclaimer: who the fuck cares anymore, we've all memorized that shit.**

**Warning: do I need to? We're talking about _Mail Jeevas _and _Mihael Keehl_ making a fucking _porno_. That's enough of a warning. Also, OOC-NESS AHEAD, but I guess you were expecting that, too?**

* * *

"Kid, what the fuck are you doing with that banana?"

It was another normal day at my job, _Mogu's Market_, where "every fruit and vegetable comes freshly out of our dear Mother Nature" (or so Mogu-san, my boss, likes to say, though that's a highly questionable motto, especially when half of the store is covered in mold and infested by mice). Customers come and go, some happy and some grim (probably having witnessed some nasty mouse-sex towards the back of the store, where the cheeses are), kids keep pestering their mothers to buy them candy, low-life people buy their instantaneous food because they're too fucking lazy to cook, and the mice are as active as alway—oh, look, a cockroach...

It's 9:30 pm (I work the night shift, mind you), the activity at Mogu's has lessened considerably and I'm standing at my usual place by the bananas (which were a fabulous yellow, lemme tell ya, but nowhere near as vibrant as Mello's chocobo hair*) that nobody ever—_ever_—bought, playing _Silent Hill: Origins_ on my PSP.

Yeah, everything is at it should be. Except for one little thing.

Near.

Nate River is his real name, but he presented himself as Near when we hired him, so that's what everyone at the store has been calling him ever since. He claims to be almost nineteen years old, but with those baby looks of his, it's hard to believe that. His skin is smooth and pale like porcelain; his almond-shaped, wide eyes are as black as coal; his heart-shaped face is round and doll-like; his hair looks more like a cloud of pure, white fluff; and he has this tendency of always curling a wavy lock around his fingers that just makes you want to coo at him like you would with a baby. Overall, he's...cute.

But one _hell_ of a creepy fellow, and if _I _think that he's creepy, then you should be worried. I mean, I live with a blond psychopath who sleeps with a gun under his pillow. If _that_'s not shit-scary, then I don't fucking _want_ to know what is.

Don't get me wrong, though; I like Near, he's a good kid. He's quiet and extremely patient, and everyone likes him, but there is jut something about him that really bothers me. For starters, he looks like he just came out of a fucking asylum. All he ever wears is _white_—white shirt, white pants, white socks, white shoes, white coat, white scarf, white gloves, white _everything_. He also likes to people-watch a lot, which freaks the fuck out of the customers. He doesn't do it on purpose, of course, but his eyes tend to turn blank and somewhat crazed when he stares at people for a long time, and that coupled to his asylum looks _really_ make him look like a freak.

But he's an amazing fella, too. If there is one thing we have in common, it would be playing, though we do it in different ways. Whereas I spend basically all of my life playing videogames, Near prefers toys. He also really likes to build stuff with whatever object he finds.

Like he's doing right now with the bananas.

He doesn't even look up at me when he answers. "I'm building a castle."

Yes, I could see that, thank you very much, albino kid. "Yeah, but...with the _bananas_?" Even though I can see it happening with my own eyes, I still can't comprehend _how_ those yellow fruits can stay upright like that. Talk about real-life Minecraft...

"I tried with the mushrooms, but they're too decayed to do anything with them," he replies, voice void of any emotion. He grabs two more bananas and turns them so their curved backs are touching, and then proceeds to make them stay upright, like all the others. And again, to my surprise, they don't fall or budge once he lets go of them. "Besides," he adds, turning my attention back to him, "I really don't want to get acquainted to those mice in the back."

I chuckle at that before focusing my attention back to the game I paused. "I thought the old geezer—" that would be Mogu "—had gotten rid of them, already. " Or so he keeps saying every time we complain about rat excrement mixed in with the peanuts.

"He says it's not his fault if they keep coming back. I don't understand why he doesn't call the mice extermination if it's such a huge problem. Even the customers complain about it..."

"He's either afraid of losing the shop, or he has a soft spot for animals and doesn't want to kill them." Though it's probably the first one, considering Mogu is an avid bastard. As long as I get my pay, though, I can't really complain.

"Hn," was the only answer Near gives me, and I'm content with that. I'm trying to beat the _Alessa's Dream_ boss, anyway, so I'm kind of busy.

For the next couple minutes, the empty store is filled with the noise of my game and the low buzzing of the refrigerators. There's the occasional late-night customer who comes in, but that's pretty much it.

Until Near breaks the silence again.

"How's life?" Odd question to ask, especially since it's _Near_ we're talking about, Mr. Antisocial, but I appreciate his effort to make small talk.

"Not bad, not bad..." No need to tell him Mello and I are currently broke, so I leave that fact out. Speaking of which, I really need to find a solution to our problem, and quick. I wonder if we could maybe sell pieces of furniture that we don't need? Or clothes and accessories that don't fit us anymore...though probably everything still suits Mello, considering his body hasn't changed much since high school...

"How's Mello?"

"Crazy and a chocolate addict, as usual." And it will probably never change, not as long as he keeps watching those mafia movies. "What about you?" I figure I would make this conversation easier if we're talking about him...

He shrugs, but doesn't grace me with an answer.

...or not.

"Got any plans for the weekend?" I keep asking, even though I'm not that interested in knowing. Sure, I guess you can call us "friends", but...meh. He has this sort of..."rivalry" going on with Mello that apparently started since they were both younger, and all of Mello's enemies are _my_ enemies, too.

Sometimes I feel like I get too protective of my cute, little chocobo...but I seriously can't bring myself to give a living shit.

"Not really," he replies.

And that's when I figure that he doesn't really want to talk, anymore, so I stop asking question. And so does he.

The rest of my shift went by uneventful, unless you count beating my game an event...

* * *

I. Am. So. Fucking. _Tired_.

My feet hurt, my back is stiff from standing up straight all night, and I'm sleepy as fuck. The only thing I want to do right now is go to my room and fall asleep in the comfort of my bed. Or even the couch, I really don't care at the moment.

It's three in the morning and I know that Mello is probably already asleep, so I don't bother to check up on him as I make my way to my room, dragging my feet behind me. My eyes always get sensitive to the light when I'm sleepy, and I'm glad my blond roommate didn't leave any lamps on—or maybe he was just saving on electricity? I don't need any light, anyway; I've memorized basically every corner of this apartment, so I know exactly where my room is.

I'm torn between getting rid of my clothes and jump directly in the bed or taking shower, so I choose the one that requires less physical activity—bed it is. I make my way among the dirty clothes on the floor, and once my knees hit the mattress, I unceremoniously throw myself on top of it.

And the second I do so, I realize something is wrong with my bed—something _very_ wrong.

The first thing I notice is that I landed on something...hard, not the softness of my mattress. The second thing I notice is that the object I landed on is lumpy. I spread my fingers over the object below me, and I'm terrified to realize it feels too much like a...like a human body. I keep feeling around with my hands, and I can definitely make out the silhouette of a shoulder, followed by an arm, a side...lower to a rather masculine hip.

"Mello...?" I ask in a murmur, unsure if I want to know the answer to that question. It wouldn't be the first time he's slept in my bed...but the body structure is different from the chocobo's. It feels sturdier, less curvy—not that Mello is _curvy_ like women are, but he's got softer hips than most men...and that's just fine with me.

The body beneath me twitches, and I immediately get off of it. I sit back and watch with curious, careful eyes as the stranger in my bed turns around in their sleep, now facing me.

Yup. This is most definitely _not_ Mello.

I can feel my panic morph into anger at the new discovery, my hands tightening into fists at my sides. My body starts shaking, and a low growl rumbles in my throat. Just who the fuck is this person sleeping in my bed? _Why_ is he in _my_ bed? Is it one of Mello's sex partners? Didn't we talk about this already? Bedroom business stays in the bedroom.

"MELLO!"

A loud _thump! _from the other side of the wall tells me that said blond is now awake.

* * *

"...and that's how it is," Mello finishes explaining, twiddling with his thumbs on his lap and refusing to look at me.

My mouth is hanging open at the whole story, arms crossed in front of my chest.

So...apparently, the guy sleeping in my bed is Light Yagami, a Japanese student left with nowhere to go because his documents have been stolen, and Mello offered him to crash at our place for the time being.

Shit like that only happens in manga, _not_ real life.

Sighing in frustration, I rub my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel a scream surging from deep within my soul, so I lock my jaw in place in order to let nothing out. I can't afford to lose my patience like this, it's too damn late in the night—morning—for this shit.

I look at the Light kid—what the fuck kind of name is that, _anyway__?—_and then back at Mello. They're both sitting on the couch in front of me, awkwardly staring at the floor. I bet they feel ashamed, and they should.

I clear my throat, making Mello look up at me, and I motion him to follow me in the kitchen with a wiggle of my index finger. I see him gulp, but he does as asked, anyway.

Once I know we're out of Light's earshot, I turn to glare at the blond. "What the fuck were you thinking, Mello?" I harshly whisper, trying my best not to be loud.

"I couldn't just leave him out there, Matt. I've been in that situation before, I know what it feels like to be hopeless. You _know_ it's not something I can just ignore," he whispers back just as cautiously, glancing at the door to check if our guest heard us.

I could feel my eyes soften at his words, but I quickly slipped my stern mask back in place. Now is most definitely not the time to get distracted by mellow Mello. "I know, I understand," I reassure him, softly squeezing his left shoulder. "But just _think_ of our situation, Mello. We are _broke_. We have absolutely no money and no way to pay those bills in time! How are we supposed to take care of him—" I point at the living room "—if we can't take proper care of ourselves? We can't afford to have someone in the house, Mello." I know what I'm saying is probably harsh, and I seriously have nothing against that Light guy, especially since I've just met him (in a very undesirable way, alas, but still). It's obviously not the kid's fault for being robbed of his possessions, and I'm not blaming Mello for having a heart of gold, either (no matter how hard he tries to prove me wrong, what with pointing his Beretta at me every now and again).

I just wish my blond friend would try to reason before acting.

Said blond man looks up at me with wide, puppy-dog, blue eyes, and I mentally curse myself. I know that look, and I know what he's trying to do. I also know he'll be successful. "I can ask him to leave, if you want me to..."

Yup. He's pulling the Guilt Card on me. I groan at my inevitable defeat. Leave it to Mello to be both dangerous and adorable at the same time. "It's too late for that, now, Mello..." I sigh and rub my temples. My shoulders slump, my sleep deprivation taking its toll on me. My whole body begins to ache again, the soles of my feet throbbing from all the hours of work spent standing and walking home. "I seriously don't know how we'll get through this when we have no money, but I guess we'll manage."

Mello smiles—the kind of smile that makes me feel less bad about agreeing to something that will most definitely get us kicked out of the apartment and into the street—and it's enough to make my anger disappear, if only for a few moments.

But then he frowns, and brow twitches.

"Actually..." he says slowly, blue eyes rolling up to meet my green ones. "Um...I kind of met someone at the store today..."

Oh, that's just fucking fantastic. Just when I think I can finally sleep, he brings up another topic. "Who?"

He looks unsure as he answers, "Alois Trancy and Ciel Phantomhive."

And he's not shrieking like a crazy fangirl? Something's wrong, here. My gaze narrows. I smell something suspicious... "Aaaaand?"

"And he kind of showed me a way for us to make a shit-ton of money quickly."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not gonna like this?" I ask, more to myself than him. Nothing can come out of a BL author and owner of a sex shop.

Mello clears his voice and nervously wets his lips. "Mattie, it will get us a _lot_ of money."

"And I _really_ don't like the sound of that, Mello." I eye him suspiciously as I say so. There is just _something _about the way he's acting that seems completely off. "What did the Trancy guy tell you?" I swear, if that blond midget brainwashed my—

"How do you feel about having sex for money?"

—Oh my _God_.

"_What?!_" The whole fucking town probably heard my shriek, but I can't give a shit at the moment. Mello tries to shush me, sending a worried glance towards the living room, but I'm too shocked to do what he's asking me. "Mello, what the _fuck_ did you just say? Sex for _money_? Shit, I know we're broke as hell, but seriously? _Prostitution?_ That_ has_ to be the craziest shit I've ever heard coming from you! I mean, you do crazy shit all the damn time, but this takes the cake! What the fuck are you _thinking_? Do you really want to whore yourself out like that?! You—"

My words die in my throat when Mello slaps his hands in front of my mouth, efficiently making me shut up. A slight blush is coloring his cheeks, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he's embarrassed—but the angry scowl on the rest of his features tells me otherwise. "Shut _up_, Matt! Listen to me to the end, damn it! Who ever said anything about prostitution?!"

"You did!" I argue, breaking free from his touch. "You just said 'having sex for money'!"

"I meant making a _porno_, you dipshit!" He slaps my forehead with the palm of his hand, and I wince away at the sharp, yet brief, pain._  
_

I blink at him with wide eyes, trying to register his words. "A...a porno?"

"Yes, Matt, a porno. You know, those movies with naked people you watch at night when you think I'm asleep?"

My face heats up with the blush I know is coloring my cheeks. "Y-You know about that?"

He has the guts to roll his eyes at me, a mischievous, sly grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. "The walls of this run-down apartment are paper-thin, Mattie; I can hear everything. But anyways, yeah. A porno."

"So...let me get this straight—" I clear my throat "—When you went to work today, you met Alois Trancy, the author of countless gay novels, and he offered you to act in a _porno movie_?"

"Yes."

"And you want to go along with it. And you want _me_ to be part of it, too?"

"_Yes_."

"Absolutely _not_. I still have my dignity, thank you very much," I refuse, crossing my arms in front of my chest to try and look more intimidating—"try" being the keyword, because _he's_ the one with a fucking Beretta tucked in the waistband of his sleeping pajama pants. What if he accidentally shoots is dick off one of these days?

"I don't think this is a matter of dignity, anymore, Matt. We're gonna end up living in the streets if we don't do something soon. What dignity will we have then?"

True, I agree, but he doesn't need to know that. "But a porno, Mello? Why can't it be a normal movie?"

"Because pornos don't need any acting skills, that's why. You just need to get naked and have sex with someone, that's all there is to it." He sighs, his arms falling at his sides. "I was against it at first, too. I thought it was a foolish idea...but then I thought about all those bills and the kind of life we're living. And there's Light, too," he adds, nodding towards the living room. I'm surprised the kid is still sitting there; were it anyone else, they probably would've already tried to spy on our conversation by now. "It's not like we have anything to lose if this doesn't work, anyway, and you know very well I've bid farewell to my virginity a long time ago, just like you have. And we both have no qualms about having sex with no strings attached."

"I really don't like this idea, Mello," I try to reason. But I know that whatever I might say at this point will be useless. Once Mello makes up his mind on something, it's impossible to make him think otherwise.

"Just think about it, Mattie—_really_ think about it. We can gain so much money from all this. We can pay all our bills, help Yagami-kun get all his stuff back so he can get settled and we wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. We can get out of this shit-hole of an apartment (and town) and go somewhere better—to the big city, Matt, like we've always wanted. We can save up money for the future, so we wouldn't have to worry about one thing once we retire...Also, I can get all the fucking chocolate I want, and you can get all the videogames you so desire to buy."

Oh, great. Now he's playing the Dreams Card. Just fucking _great_. "Mello, _don't_—"

"Isn't the new Tekken coming out next week, Mattie?" He puts cutely as he says those words, blinking his long lashes in a very innocent (and totally fake) fashion.

I've been waiting for that game ever since I heard Namco was making it. "Fuck you," I growl, and he smirks.

He knows he's won the battle. "Is that a yes? Are we going to do this, Mattie? Just think about it, we might even become famous! We get pleasure _and _money. What could possibly go wrong?"

I swallow all the nasty insults I want to scream at his face, trying to calm myself down.

Right. He's right, Matt. What could ever go wrong? I get to have sex on a daily basis _and_ I get money for it. That's two of the things I love, already. And the new _Tekken_ is just waiting for me to get my claws on it.

"Ugh, _fine_, you bastard!" I grow, pushing myself away from the smirking blond.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

***"chocobo hair": Cloud Strife, anyone?**

**Well, that was chapter two! Brought to you by thy loyal Shirai Phoenix.**

**Ultimma, gurl. *Pats on shoulder* I pass the ball to ya.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Ultimma. gothicca here. How's it going?**

**Since chappy two was so damn good, I felt I should retaliate, and update FASTER!**

**Thanks for the responses, especially:**

**Krizy888888**

**ForeverMATT**

**GingerificFabulousTime**

**thewiselittleowl**

**Read on, read more. It only gets better every chappy.**

**Enjoy~:**

* * *

**Mello's pov ~**

**Cellphone conversation part 1**

**Me**: Hi, Alois! This is Mello. You know, from Callie's.

**Alois**: The guy with page hair as pretty as _moi_? _Hizashi buri~_

**Me**: Yeah, so...I thought about your suggestion regarding the...you know...

**Alois**: Uh-huh. So what's holding you back?

**Me**: This might be really embarrassing, but...how do I actually make a porno?

* * *

Don't get me wrong. I'm actually really smart, one of the best even; however, I don't watch TV to get off.

I mean, what's so appealing about dark armpits, unshaven crotches, and whiny women? Yeah, that's what I hated most about porn flicks.

**_The women_**.

If I watch gay porn, I have to tolerate muscled men tackling each other and screwing like crazy, with tasteless techniques. It always looks like a _wrestling match gone** wrong. **_I want my men to be _fit_, with sexy and firm abdominal muscles, and none of those weight-lifting meatheads.

Then, there's the issue about shallow plots (c'mon, cheerleaders, teachers, and perverted stepparents? Even a _fourth grader_ can come up with a better story line), the tacky lines ("I prefer your _cream on me_"; **WTF**), and the awkward casting.

Come to think of it, I have a _lot _to complain about when it comes to pornography.

That's why I read books. I can at least censor out the disgusting parts and focus on the sexy ones. My imagination can go wild without being crushed by unkempt hygiene and grunting sounds. **_Eww_**.

Good thing was, I have the "Alois Trancy" as an adviser. He even volunteered to write the script and story line for me. Seriously, I love that dude. Aside from being a sexy blond and fucking smart, he's such a helpful—

_Wait a sec. Focus, Mello._

I need to make a porno I would want to watch.

* * *

**Cellphone conversation part 2**

**Alois**: Don't worry about those things, I got you covered~ I'll even send you free sex toys! I have lots from _Shieru_~

**Me**: So, all I need is to gather the crew so you can start the plot. Is that right?

* * *

**How to make a porno:**

**Step 1: Gather the crew.**

"Director, producer, camera man, actors, props, and script already covered by AL..."

"I wouldn't think God will help us make that porno, Mels." Matt yawned lazily as he ambled towards the purple zebra couch, cigarette perched on his mouth and PSP at hand. As usual, he forgot his pants and shirt, and is now perfectly content with his Mario boxers with mushrooms in weird places. The redhead took his place to my right, refusing when I offered the Korean instant noodles I'm having for breakfast.

"I'm not praying, you idiot," I grumbled. "I'm planning for the porno. We need a crew to start this shit, preferably a cheap one at that."

"Well, there's Light—"

"Mattie!" I gasped in horror, my hand flying automatically to slap his arm in protest. "We took him in to help him, _not_ exploit him!"

"Jeez, I'm just kidding. Don't get all pumped up, princess." He turned to his game, successfully blocking out all I'm supposed to say with laser and boinking sounds from the contraption. I sigh in sheer pressure, finishing the already cold meal with a huge gulp.

_You'd think making a porno is that easy? You got it wrong, baby._

"Mello, there's a package at the door." Light came back from hanging his washed clothes at the rooftop with a medium-sized box at hand. He's now currently wearing one of Matt's plain white, long-sleeved shirts and my oversized jogging pants, (I gave him new underwear from one of those gifts creepy customers handed in for me last Christmas) and overall he looked as though he's fitting perfectly right in. Neighbors found him cute and chicks gave him random American food, trying to make him embrace the American culture.

It's quite endearing.

"Open it for me. I bet it's one of those random gifts from our neighbors. Seriously, they should just give cash or something useful, like chocolate."

I opened a book (Alois Trancy's _Eden_) and proceeded to read the homoerotic novel, my naked foot raised to the hand rest. From the corner of my eye, I watch Light scamper for a knife around the small kitchen with a broken sink (we have a bucket underneath for the dirty water), and instead found a huge pair of dull scissors. Nothing interesting going on, I focused on my book.

_I opened my mouth to protest, only to feel a wet, slimy tongue coaxing my own to dance. Heady lust threw all reasoning out the window, and I returned the kiss with a needier want. My fingers tangled with his silver locks, admiring how soft and fragrant he is—_

"Err, Mello?"

Damn, I'm already at the sexy part. "What is it, Light-kun?"

"There's a message for you here. Should I read it out loud?"

"Go~" I replied, uninterested.

The Asian cleared his throat smoothly before proceeding, in a clear voice:

"_Dear Mello,_

_Wazzup, my equally blond friend? I noticed you're quite worried last night, so I took the liberty of sending you the 'goods' for the porno you're attempting to do—"_

My book dropped to the floor, along with Matt's game console, as we both listened horrified at Light's announcement. The bleeps and bloops of the game continued as we stare at the cinnamon-haired college student, too surprised to stop him.

_"I am such a good friend! I know you have the future of making it in the industry with that va-va-voom body of yours. So gather up that happy crew and let's get this partaiye started._

_Lotsaluv,_

_Alois "blond" Trancy._

_PS. Coz blonds gotta stick together~_

And that's it."

As if on cue, both Matt and I turned to look at each other, my sky blue eyes as wide as his grassy green ones. We both stood up and raced to the box, curious as to what the "gay" porn writer sent us.

"What the hell is this?" Matt raised a ball thingy with leather strips attached on each end. I pulled out a rubber dildo-looking thing with a flared end. In all honesty, I don't recognize half of it. Then there's lube. Strawberry lube. Why can't it be chocolate?

"That's a gag ball, and a butt plug with a wide end so you won't accidentally insert it all the way in." Light pointed at what Matt is holding, then to the dildo (so it was a butt plug—wait. How the hell did _he_ know!?). "That's quite a surprise. I didn't expect Mello-kun to be a maker of _yaoi_ porn."

"_Yaoi_?" Matt turned his head suspiciously to me, as if demanding for an explanation.

_Great, now I got to explain to Matt._

"It basically means BL, Mattie."

"What the fuck?!" Matt glared at me with the force of a thousand suns. I felt my heart thump in slight fear at the sight, but quickly reminded myself that what Light assumed isn't entirely true. "You know I'm straight, Mels!"

"Calm yo' tits, partner. Jeez." I slumped back to the couch. "I'm planning a bisexual porn flick, with hetero _and_ gay sex. Mostly orgies, or whatever."

Light patted the flaming gamer on the shoulder and closed the "Pandora's box of doom". "So, if I may assume correctly, you still haven't planned everything out."

"We just agreed on it yesterday," my redhead explained, trying to calm himself by massaging his temples and not looking at me. "I didn't know that chocobo would order gay sex toys at Candy and Whip."

"Hey!" _How dare he call me a fucking chocobo!? "_FYI, AL sent that for free. I have no fucking idea that he knew I'm gay."

"The **nailpolish**, Mels? What kind of a straight man would wear nailpolish?! Hell! I hate my life!"

Seriously, Matt can be such an ingrate, sometimes. Saying he's not gay, and shit, as if I didn't know any better. He's bisexual—he jerks off while looking at his Final Fantasy posters.

"It's going to be with a girl, then, and me, Matt," I explained sternly, resisting the urge to open a pack of Hershey's and munch my frustration off. Maybe later. "I used to suck you off when you're drunk, anyway, so it's no big deal."

"That was wa~y back in middle school!"

"Point is, Matt baby—" I looked at him pointedly and aimed a huge pink dildo at his direction "—now is not the time to be choosy. Surveys has it that the most promising and well-paid pornographic materials are those in the homosexual category. Although I plan to toss in some het sex, the main focus would be the _YAOI_."

That cute freckled nose scrunched up in protest as the goggled pair of emeralds narrowed in discrimination at my statement. Dear god, Mattie can be a stick in a mud, sometimes. What's wrong with some hot gay sex instead of the usual boring shit?

"Anyways, that should be the less of our concerns right now. The main problem is the crew." I swiftly maneuvered the subject to divert his attention. He proved to be easily distracted as he raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to listen, hands propped at the sink with shattered tiles. "First, we need a director."

**"I can do it." **I looked up to meet Light's brown orbs, now looking at me with a motivated expression. The Japanese male grinned conspiratorially as he glanced at the Pandora's box every now and then. "If it's directing, then count me in. I used to direct school plays back in Japan, sometimes even act on it for fun." I overheard a mutter in Matt's direction, but I was too preoccupied ogling at the college student's sparkly persona to notice what he actually said. "I'm quite an **actor**, if I do say so myself."

I turned to Matt, who was already yawning off at the long speech. Rubbing his bare tummy, he reached for a pack of biscuits on top of the rotting cupboard, nodding to himself.

"Matt seems to agree. Then, a producer—"

"Someone who finances the movie, yes? Leave that to me~" Dragging his feet back to the couch, my best friend slumped right back in, picking up his abandoned game in one hand while eating the biscuits with the other. "I think I can squeeze out something from Near."

_What the fuck?_

"Near? Nate River?" Stomping towards the redhead, I posed intimidatingly in front of him, pulling down the PSP to gain his full attention. "We are not asking for help from that sheep!"

"Proud much, Mello?" Whipping his head towards me, he glared again. He's being stuffy today. "If I'm going to be in this, at least let me take someone who'll be as miserable as me. Since it's obvious that you'll enjoy this, I'll take Near. Sounds good?"

At that **cute** angry face, I can't actually say no.

**Director**: Light Yagami

**Producer**: Cottonball Productions

A few steps more and we'll be on our way to pornolandia.

* * *

"Look, Light. Since I know you'll be bored to death at home, you can stay here and watch me work." I placed a cup of hot chocolate on top of the table and gestured towards the counter. "Just stay here and try to make trustworthy friends. Got it?"

"Mmkay, Mello-kun. I'll just people-watch, then."

_Is it me or am I like a fucking mother hen?_ I sighed and went to the storage room to re-stack some potato chips. It's only 12 pm, and at a time like this customers are rare. I began filling up a basket with the said products and made my way to the shelves, quietly arranging the items. A few moments of silence after, the doorbell rang, and I dashed to my post, readjusting my stupid hat in the process.

"Welcome to Callie's Convenience Store," I lamely announced. The customer, a thin man with black bedhead and a horrible slouch, ignored me and went immediately to the candy and sweets section. Rolling my eyes, I went back to stacking the potato chips, not paying attention to what the customer is doing.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the slouching figure sauntering towards the counter. Abandoning my other work, I made my way to the cash register, punching in the mounds of candy that the man placed before me.

"150 dollars." I looked up to my customer with a grim look on my face, only to freeze midway upon looking properly for the first time.

**I've just seen the weirdest shit _ever_.**

Oval shaped face in milky white skin framed with messy ebony locks; deep-set eyes in inky black pools with heavy bags probably from lack of sleep; slightly upturned nose that made the person look haughty; and a pair of pale, unsmiling lips...

He kinda reminds me of a certain albino sheep that will (unwillingly) finance our "movie".

The creepy man pulled out his wallet and counted the exact amount I needed. Trying to distract myself by looking at Light (currently surveying the sanitary napkins and tampons on the shelf near him), I handed in the receipt and his purchased goods.

"Do you know him?"

Forcing myself to look at the Near lookalike, I squeezed in a grin.

"Yeah, he's my friend."

"..." Onyx orbs trained at the foreigner with a discriminating gawk. Yagami, upon noticing the weird stare, tilted his head to the side and fought the intense gaze with a blank expression on his face.

Without another word, the weirdo walked away, clinking the doorbell as he went. Upon disappearing from my sight, I let out a breath of frustration.

"What the hell was that?"

_I don't know, Yagami-kun. I don't know._

* * *

**9 and a half hours later:**

"Hey, Matsuda~"

Today is the day my idiotic coworker will pay off all my goodwill and favors.

I can feel it. He is in absolutely** no **position to refuse.

"Yes? You look very enthusiastic today, Mello." The older male rolled his eyes askance to Light-kun, mouth stretching into a happy smile. "Happy that your boyfriend waited up for you?"

_Why, you fucking—_

**_Focus, Mihael._**

"No, he's not my lover, or whatever." I wrapped an arm around the old man's neck like we're best buddies and whispered, "Say, I heard you used to shoot videos for the local hockey team?"

"Yeah, but that was way back in high school." Stroking his chin thoughtfully, the walking time bomb nodded to himself. "I still have my camera, though."

"Great! So, you can help us with this project?"

I winked suggestively at Light, who took the cue and walked towards us with a friendly smile on his face.

"See, Yagami here is an aspiring director, and he's here in America to do a project."

"Wow! That is awesome, Mr. Yagami!"

"Isn't it?" I laughed pretentiously, making my grip tighter around his neck. "You're half Japanese, right? You'll be great teammates! Light, this is Matsuda, my great friend."

Light bowed politely at the other man in a typical Japanese way, smile still fixed on his face. "_Yoroshiku_. _Light Yagami_ _desu_. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too!" Taking Light's hand, he shook it frantically, with that stupid smile still on his face.

"He is going to make a kind of film that the Japanese are **so well-known for, **and we are going to be a part of it. Isn't that fucking awesome, Matsuda?"

"No way?! With me? I'm in!"

"Very nice." Smirking evilly, I hung my bag around my shoulders and motioned my friend to head to the door. "Gotta go, now. See you tomorrow! Can you ask Roger if we can squeeze Light in as one of the staff? He's getting bored at home."

"Sure thing, Mello-jello!" Waving us goodbye, I pulled Light to the outside world. I can still hear Matsuda's voice asking something, but I deliberately ignored him. He said yes. That's all that matters. Answering his question might change his mind.

**_"By the way, Jello. When are we going to start making the horror movie?"_**

_Very smart Matsuda. As always._

Ahh... Light-kun just chuckled. Why does it feel like he's actually excited to start this shit?

* * *

**_Redeem my horrible chapter, yet again, Shirai Phoenix! I'm still on a dead rut!_**


End file.
